


So what’s your favorite color, punk?

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Series: Short fic requests 2020 [7]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen, They are having fun!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27349378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: Ghoul and Kobra shenanigans, as requested from tumblr! <3
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Series: Short fic requests 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879444
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	So what’s your favorite color, punk?

The Kobra Kid flops into Ghoul’s lap with a lazy grin, startling Ghoul as they snap back from a daydream, unthreaded needle just barely avoiding falling from their hand. 

“Kobra!” After putting the needle, and piece of thread, down on the table in front of them, Ghoul continues, slipping into ZSL alongside speaking verbally. “Back from your run already?” Kobra nods, sitting right back up again and tugging on Ghoul’s sleeve. 

“Come see.” Kobra slides out of the booth to let Ghoul follow, and they do so, stretching and popping quite a few joints as they stand up.

Outside, Kobra looks around, making sure the others aren’t in sight, before pulling a crate out from beneath a tarp. Inside, hastily thrown in, are shiny, full cans of spraypaint in a variety of colors. Kobra raises a hand to their face, one finger across their lips. A secret. 

Ghoul grins, bouncing on their feet, grateful for the silent communication signing affords them. 

“Ours?” Kobra nods, equally excited, if not showing it as physically as Ghoul. 

“Here or somewhere else?” Ghoul frowns, considering. 

“Somewhere else. No interruptions.” Kobra hadn’t thought of that, and he grins, offering Ghoul a high-five. Ghoul takes his hand and shakes it instead, taking on the physicality of a Very Fancy Person. Kobra giggles, which sets Ghoul off giggling, and the two of them try desperately to keep quiet, to limited success. 

Eventually, they manage to stop laughing long enough to strap the crate to the back of Kobra’s bike, and then they’re off, Ghoul sitting in front of Kobra as Kobra drives, a more secure position than the back. 

Kobra brings the bike up to a halt in front of a massive old highway sign, the information printed on it long since having worn off from the constant wear of the sun, the rain, and the sandstorms. Kobra points at it, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in a question. Ghoul hesitates, then nods, stuffing as many cans into the pockets of their cargo pants as possible, for a hands-free climb. Kobra does the same, though they have far fewer pockets, and together, they account for all the cans. 

Ghoul climbs first, leaning from one metal rod to another, limbs shaking with the effort of climbing the structure, designed to be difficult, if not impossible to climb. Kobra watches, from the bottom, to make sure they get up okay, before following them up, a bit faster and a bit more skilled than Ghoul, but barely. 

Once the both of them are up, laid out panting on the platform of the sign, Ghoul rolls over, draping an arm across Kobra. Kobra hugs back, silent.

Finally, the two of them meet each other’s eyes, and stand, setting the cans down on the floor. Ghoul pulls out their bandanna, tying it over their mouth and nose, and Kobra _almost_ tells them it won’t do anything for the fumes. They keep quiet, though, picking up a can and shaking it just to hear the metal ball clatter around inside. 

Ghoul is more methodical about selecting a color, coming up with a deep, vibrant purple, spraying a test of it on their wrist to make sure it’s the shade they want. It is, and they begin to take deep, thick swathes of the sign, covering them evenly and cleanly. They finish fast, and wait a few moments for the paint to dry, deciding to spray one leg of Kobra’s pants purple as well. 

Kobra just laughs, working on a small section of the sign, spreading little circles out from the top right corner in greens and yellows. As Ghoul finishes fucking up Kobra’s pants, they turn around with a green and spray it directly onto Ghoul’s scalp, giggling. 

Ghoul jumps, startled, then joins in the laughter, closing their eyes and holding out sections of their hair for Kobra to paint, in the same colors they’re using for the sign. 

After Kibra finishes, Ghoul’s hair a crackling, sticky mess of green and yellow, the two of them return to their painting. Kobra finishes faster, an abstract swirl of what might be lush, green plants, growing around abandoned buildings. He signs it with a yellow “K”. Their work is distinct enough that any zonerunner would know it was theirs, with or without his letter, or symbol, but he does it anyways. 

Ghoul’s painting is a cartoonish image of DESTROYA, rising up from the sand against a purple night sky, clad in striped pajamas. Ghoul grins, holding their palms out to Kobra, who sprays neon green paint until it’s dripping from their fingertips, and Ghoul slams both hands onto the sign, making the old metal clatter, and leaving behind two handprints. 

Satisfied, the two pack up the cans, and begin their descent, sliding from one angled metal rod to the next until they’ve reached the ground, covered in paint and grinning like the pair of fools they are.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment below, and come find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight!


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